


the racing rats

by sourkitteh



Category: Kasabian
Genre: End of the World, Gen, time stops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourkitteh/pseuds/sourkitteh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when the world ends, life still goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the racing rats

**Author's Note:**

> I push my hands up to the sky  
> Shade my eyes from the sun  
> As the dust settles around me  
> Suddenly night time has begun

the end had been quick, tainted with colour and over in a flash. 

people screamed as buildings fell and the earth shook until the sun burst into shards and the world gave way to night. bodies were piled up into old factories that once held machinery and grumbles of people wanting more. the hole where the sun once shone lacked any colour at all and serge finds himself shading his eyes. rubble kicks under foot as people rush to find something, anything to cling to. 

the band are all there, together at least and serge attempts a smile but ends up grimacing at the boys who sit around the small camp fire they were lucky enough to make. on the third floor of the recording studio tom rocks back and forth with his knees curled tight against his chest.

time stopped at 11.47 and no one bothers to start it again, minutes or maybe days pass as they try to plan what to do next. chris answers the door to a woman holding out blankets and tinned goods. ian smiles his thanks and watches her ghost further along the corridor. 

"he hasnt moved for ages" the voice is low and shocking in the devastation and serge flinches. two sets of eyes take in the boy once so colourful now shielded by the black circles beneath his eyes. serge would move closer but his legs feel heavy like the darkened clouds over the city and it takes at least a few more hours, maybe days before he can find the courage to move closer.

ian and chris mention something about exploring, the need of existence and curiosity of not knowing getting the better of them much quicker then serge himself. they leave with torches and blankets and promises of returning. they dont give a time which doesnt suprise serge at all. 

the time is still 11.47 and tom is still curled up beneath the large wooden table within the office. it takes serge a few attempts and lots of curses before he can crawl under and look at the boy with his head perched atop his knees. the smile isnt forced this time and serge inches closer still to curl chilled fingers into the rip of toms jeans to touch at his bloody knee, hissing slightly tom rocks even faster and serge is almost desperate enough to do it again. 

blue eyes stay closed as serge licks the blood from his fingertips before moving the final distance. fingers curl around a bony shoulder to feel the abrasions there with am exhale of breath, the rocking stops and blue eyes open and serge feels the world stop all over again.


End file.
